A Perfect World
by Alicia Sanders
Summary: The 118th Hunger Games: What if Katniss and Peeta died in the 74th Hunger Games? Here's what I think would happen  really bad summary sry
1. Chapter 1

The 118nd Hunger Games

This is my first fanfic so don't be super harsh, although critique and reviews are appreciated!

Chapter One

"Ariana!" My little sister shrieks from the bed next to me. "Ariana, it's time to get up!" I start to rise from my bed before realizing what day today is. Reaping day. _Ugh_. My least favorite day of the year.

"Ariana!" She cries one more time. "I'm up, I'm up!" I stand, facing my nine-year-old-sister, Grace. She purses her lips.

"We're having pancakes." She informs me. "Yum!" I reply, smacking my lips for effect. She pouts moodily.

"What's the matter?" I ask, kneeling down to her height. "The reaping." She answers sadly. I smile at her, keeping my head up.

"I know it's sad. But soon, it'll be over, and then we can come back home and celebrate, just like every year." For good measure, I pinch her cheek and then lead her down the stairway.

"How can anyone be happy when one of us goes to the Games?" She squints at me, halfway between joking and seriousness.

"Well, we'll have each other, safe, and healthy, and strong." I say. "Don't get too worried about it, though. It'll be over before you know it." She seems a little more cheered, so we enter the kitchen, where my mother is bent over the stove.

"Morning, Ariana." She places a stack of pancakes in front of me, complete with butter and sugar.

"Morning, mother." She looks at me with concern. "Mom!" I exclaim.

"What?"

"You aren't worried about me getting picked, are you?"

"Of course I am."

"Well, you shouldn't. Anyway, I'm fifteen. So after today, we'll only have three more years of the reaping to go." I don't dare mention Grace. If she was ever chosen, my mom would die. Grace is her baby. She's mine, too.

"Well, you'd better get dressed. Grace, you too." She offers me a sympathetic head tilt. I nod and push the half-eaten pancakes away.

"Come on, Gracie, let's go upstairs." She lets me lead her to our room and sits down neatly on my bed.

"What are you going to wear?" She asks, her nervous blue eyes dart to meet mine.

"My yellow dress, I think." I pull the soft yellow dress onto me and grab a silver pair of sandals from my closet.

"Do you want me to plait your hair, Grace?" I ask, and she nods. I pull her blond hair back and start twisting it.

"Ariana, if you were chosen, you have to promise me you'd try to win."

"Gracie, you know that's not going to happen." I chide her.

"I know. But if it does, just promise me you will."

"Okay. I promise." I finish it and tie it back with a ribbon.

"I think we look good. Let's go get Daddy and Mom." We walk downstairs once more, and as we do, I run my hand along the wall. I never really thought about it, but this might be the last time I ever see it. The house was my grandfather's before ours, and his father's before that, and even though it's old, it's in good shape. Most of the houses in our neighborhood are old, but well-cared for too.

Our father, who greets me with a kiss and Grace with an affectionate pat on the head, leads us all out the door in his nice suit. We meet up almost instantly with our neighbors, the Carsons: Tina, my best friend, Ben, her twin, and their parents.

"Tina!" I call, catching up with her. "Hi!" She turns and smiles at me. "Are you worried about reaping?"

"A little." I admit. Ben grins at me.

"Hey." I grin back. "Hey. Are you worried, Ben?"

"Me? Nah. First year I was. But after that it kind of went away." He shrugs.

"Yeah, me too." Tina nods. "Do you'll think District 7 will get a victor?"

"I hope so!" I exclaim. We haven't had one in ten years. Districts 2 and 4 have monopolized the playing field for a while.

We reach the stage. The escort, Talia, smiles as the mayor reads the story of the flood, the fires, and the uprising.

"And now, Talia will draw the names."

"May the odds be ever in your favor!" She chirps. She skips over to the girls' ball. "Ladies first!" And she grabs a name. My breath catches in my throat.

"Rose Evenson." A shocked, muted, sigh goes through the audience. I find Rose. And what I see raises bile in my throat.

The girl is not a normal girl. She obviously doesn't know what's going on. Her eyes flit back and forth and she shoots forward like a rocket suddenly. I hear Tina whisper "She's mad." I think my father, the town doctor, uses the term Autistic.

Does no one see how sick this is? I whip my head around. A few have sympathetic expressions on their faces, but most hold their head high, glad it wasn't them. And before I know what I'm doing-

"I volunteer!" I say, loudly. Everyone turns.

"Ariana, no!" Grace shouts. But my father holds her back, from running headlong into my arms. He understands, even though I can see the pain on his face.

"Well! A volunteer! Fantastic!" Talia says cheerfully. "And what's your name?"

At first I think I can't speak. But then, in a surprisingly calm and rational voice comes a noise that I don't mean to say.

"Ariana. Ariana Levinson." I answer. And then my mind starts working.

What have I done?

What'd you think? Reviews, please!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Talia smiles at me and then frolics over to the boy's ball. She lifts her chin and drops her hand into the ball. After fishing around for a while, she pulls out a paper. She frivolously opens it slowly. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"Brady Alexander." Oh...

Brady's the most handsome boy at our school, possibly the most handsome boy in District 7. I can just hear the girls sigh as they realize what this means.

Brady's eyes flash as he climbs the stairs to the stage, meeting mine furiously. I can see his mother and two little brothers' faces as he stands next to me. His dark, almond shaped-eyes appear almost red in the circumstances but then they flash back to dark, dark brown.

"Tributes of District 7, everyone!" Talia squeaks. We're led to the Justice Building. It may be the nicest building I have ever seen, besides the mayor's house. I sit down on the couch and he's led to another room. I press my head into my hands and don't even look up when I hear the doors crack open again.

"I understand if you don't want to talk-" Tina says softly. "But I just want to let you know that you're the stupidest person I know." I look up. Tina is smiling. "But I understand why you did it. It was really brave of you-" Now we're both crying. "I wish I had the guts to. Anyway. I love you, so much." She opens her arms and I fall into them. She treated it like I'd see her again. I wish.

"Promise me you'll at least try?" Tina asks, pulling away. I nod. She kisses my cheek and hugs me one last time before stepping out of the room. The doors crack open again and someone slips in. I recognize the shapes: it's my mother and father. She hands me two envelopes and I look at her in confusion.

"Your father and I wrote letters to you in case you ever got... chosen..." She struggles with the words for a moment and then resumes "Even before you were born... we wrote them, and kept adding to them, and maybe this way it'll be easier to..." _say goodbye_. I know everyone is thinking that, anyway. She hands me the papers. Then she pats her pocket for something.

"It's nothing much," She assures me, "But it was your grandmother's." Daddy strings the necklace around my neck.

"It's beautiful." I whisper. The necklace is very simple: a perfect silver ring with one sparkling rhinestone in the middle. We give our last hugs and I tuck the letters away. Someone else has snuck in- it's Grace and Ben. Grace throws herself on my lap and buries her head in my long hair. I kiss the top of Grace's head, and I can feel tears sliding down her face. She slides off my lap, and I fix her dress one last time. She leaves, not before kissing my face again and I can't believe this might be the last time I see her.

I look up at Ben. I'm suddenly panicked. He opens his arms and I sink into them.

"What am I going to do?" I say. "There's going to be people who want to kill me. I can't kill people. I can't!" I start sobbing. I am going to die. I. Am. Going. To. Die.

"Sh..." He's surprisingly comforting and wraps me in his arms tighter. I sit back on the couch, and bury my head in his comfortable shoulder.

"Hey..." He lifts my head and waits until I make eye contact with him. "You're going to be okay."

"How do you know?" He takes one of my hands in his giant ones, and rubs his thumb across it.

"Because... if I know you, and I do, you're not going to give up without a fight." I don't even notice him leaning in towards me until he's literally millimeters away, and that's when I jerk back.

"I... I'm sorry. But I can't." He nods and presses his lips to my hand instead. "But you'll wait for me, right?" He nods again. Then he stands up to leave. And he's gone. The Peacekeepers lead me onto the train. And we're waving goodbye... and the train leaves.

That fast. It's all gone. All I've got left is the letters and my necklace token. It's just me, Brady, Talia, and our escorts, Hunter, and Lily. Hunter won when he was sixteen, twenty years ago, in the 98th games. Lily won literally by accident- there was a fire that killed the final five, and she escaped by swimming in a lake. And then there's Brady. He's squeezed onto one couch with me- how did we get here? Anyway, Lily and Hunter face us on a similar couch.

"So! Where did you two grow up?" Talia asks as the awkward silence overcomes her. Brady's not going to answer her, so I say, "In town." Everyone turns to Brady but he doesn't say anything for a while. Finally he says "In the Seam." Everyone internally sighs. The Seam- it means he's probably supporting a few younger siblings, living in a shack, and on lots and lots of tesserae. Which means he'll be that much more determined to win.

Talia directs us to our rooms, and we both leave without a word. I take a long, long shower, and by the time I'm done, Talia and Lily are knocking on my door for dinner. I follow them for what seems like an hour in the long, long hallway and finally we reach the dining hall.

A feast is laid out for us. I'm not hungry. I'm too sick to my stomach to be hungry, but Brady's not. He's already filled his plate up with bread and butter and breadsticks. Talia scolds him, telling him to save room for the next five courses. _Five courses_! Back in Seven, at fancy dinners we have three at most- salad and then the meal, and then dessert. But the food just keeps coming out.

Talia clicks on the television set hanging on the wall and we watch the rest of the Reapings, live. Four, two, and one reap rather scary tributes (muscular boys with dangerous scars and girls who look like they'd kill babies for a living without a second thought.)

"Up next, the Reapings for Districts eight through twelve, stick around!" Caesar Flickerman calls out joyously, his grotesque orange skin making me even more sick to my stomach, but before anything happens, his face flickers and an anchor gripping a microphone pops up onto the screen.

"Hello, I'm Stone Jennings, live from District eight. We interrupt your program for urgent news from Districts eight, nine, and twelve. The Districts have rebelled, and refuse to give tributes."

Talia's jaw drops. Brady actually puts down the rib he was gnawing on and stares in shock, and Hunter puts his head in his hands.

"What does this mean?" I ask. No one answers me. "What does it mean?" I ask again, frantically. The anchor unknowingly answers me.

"The Hunger Games are to be held off for approximately six weeks."

Soo... Review. Comment. Favorite. Ya know...


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